For a scandal that has everything a media feeding frenzy needs, it looks like the latest Larry Craig fiasco is going to end with a whimper and a whine (probably not too different from the Senator’s sexual encounters).

Oh, poor Larry Craig, what are we going to do with you? You’ve paid male prostitutes for sex, passed around the same prostitute that was working under (and probably behind) Pastor Ted Haggard, even plead guilty to soliciting sex from a plainclothes officer in a Minnesota airport men’s room.

So, what’s the Senate to do with you? Answer: nothing. No, you get to live out the rest of your days working in the Senate as the closeted gay guy who trolls bathrooms for illicit sex. Congratulations! You get to hold on to your lofty little post in the Senate. We at Weekly Review just hope you’re able to at least make eye contact with your fellow Senators while you’re at work. We wouldn’t want your work experience to become weird, now that everyone knows about your dirty little secret.

A quick word of advice from Weekly Review to Mark Foley, Ted Haggard and Larry Craig:

YOU’RE GAY.

It’s nothing to be ashamed of; lots of people are gay! And they come out of the closet and lead fulfilling lives all the time! That’s the good news. The bad news is, when Republicans are gay, they stay in the closet and preach about how wrong it is to be gay, and then go drown their shame in a tranny’s ass. Seems like a miserable existence to us. At any rate, to help educate you and the rest of your closeted buddies on what to do about being gay, the staff at Weekly Review has come up with this parody of David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” to help you out.

But if you don’t have time to listen to the song, trust us: when you cheat on your wife and pay for another dude to fuck you, or (in the case of Mark Foley) hit on underage kids working at the White House, you’re gay. Oh, and also a pedophile.

On a closing note, since Ted and Mark decided rehab (Rehab? Like, for drinking? Are you serious???) was the answer, we at Weekly Review are anxiously waiting for when the next scandal hits so you can blame your backsliding (pardon the pun) on a shitty rehab center, instead of owning up to the fact that you’re gay and have been burying your normal, human urges in a faux marriage and illicit prostitute man-sex.